


small town strangers

by cowboyjones



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, M/M, Pining, Strangers to Lovers, id say it’s a bit of a slow burn!, its bokuaka week and B), its only teen cause there's mild curses like three times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25677580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboyjones/pseuds/cowboyjones
Summary: A chime rang through the store, Akaashi figured it would be a neighbor asking for something or coming over to talk as usual, but when he looked up, he didn’t see a neighbor. He saw a stranger standing at the door.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 9
Kudos: 68





	small town strangers

**Author's Note:**

> bokuaka week 2020 day 3! i hope you enjoy :>

A chime rang through the store, Akaashi figured it would be a neighbor asking for something or coming over to talk as usual, but when he looked up, he didn’t see a neighbor. He saw a stranger standing at the door.

Had it been years ago, it wouldn’t have caused him to jump. When he had first moved into the town, everyone came to the store, offering a hand, gifting him home cooked meals that he was raised too respectfully to turn down. At the time, he expected a new face every other day.

But now? Now he knew every person within the town, which wasn’t too impressive since it was relatively small, but Akaashi enjoyed the enclosed feeling, having been from a big city to begin with.

This stranger though, he was a man Akaashi had never even seen. 

He looked older than Akaashi, maybe five or six years older. He was a tall man, he couldn’t be too much taller than Akaashi though. He supposed it’s the man’s confidence that made him appear taller. 

Akaashi recognized self proclaimed confidence anywhere. From the way the man stood with his head held high and shoulders rolled back, it seemed he had gained every right to be confident and he knew it. 

Akaashi typically didn’t like the type. With that kind of ballooning confidence, they get way over their heads, they’re the type to always need someone to reign them in and he didn’t like getting mixed up with those types. Though, his confidence wasn’t the only thing to add to his height. 

The man had white and black streaks springing out of his head like freshly grown grass. It might have been a bit funny looking but, somehow, because of the man’s uncaring body language, he pulled it off simply by being himself.

It also helped that he had a handsome face, Akaashi couldn’t deny that. He had sharply angled eyebrows that framed his eyes. Golden eyes… he didn’t know nature could produce such a color. The man’s eyes should have been creepy. They were piercing, he imagined that if they were aimed at someone it would stun them frozen. 

Realizing he had probably stared for too long, he bowed to the man, greeting him. “Welcome.”

The man perked up instantaneously, stepping closer with a spring. “Thanks!” 

They stood in silence, the stranger hadn’t said anything more and Akaashi wasn’t going to be the first to say something, not when the other walked through his store in the first place. 

Akaashi was getting anxious though. In all honesty he hadn’t met anyone new in a while, only when he went out to the city. Wanting to preoccupy himself and to appear unphased, he continued arranging the cool toned bouquet he had been working on, hoping to distract at least his hands with something. 

And yet, the man still hadn’t said a word, it was almost unbearable. The man looked deep in thought, he really didn’t want to disrupt him but he was staring directly at Akaashi. 

“Did you want something?” Akaashi asked, finally throwing in the towel. He wouldn’t usually talk to customers in a rude way but Akaashi felt it was justified with the other’s stare prolonging.

“Oh, right,” the stranger’s resting face with unfocused eyes turned into a grin, “I’m Bokuto Koutarou and I just got a job across the street and thought I’d introduce myself to everyone in the neighborhood! I work at the tattoo shop,” his gesturing hands froze, face twisting as he thought, “I don't know if you can see it...”

Bokuto moved around the counter, standing closer than Akaashi would’ve liked. Akaashi was going to chastise him for even having the gall to step behind the counter, let alone step so close into his space, but a hand pulled at his wrist, guiding him so he could see Bokuto’s workplace through the window. “There!” 

Akaashi was well aware of where the tattoo shop was, and Akaashi wanted to be annoyed at Bokuto but it’s not like the man could have known.

“Yes, thank you, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi managed to wriggle his wrist out of Bokuto’s hold. It was a strong hold and Akaashi wasn’t entirely sure if Bokuto was aware of his own strength. 

His neighbors would scold him if they found out he didn’t properly welcome Bokuto, and they would undoubtedly find out. He held back a sigh and bowed once more to Bokuto, “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thanks, uh…!?” Bokuto looked at him expectantly.

“Akaashi Keiji,” he lended.

“Thanks Akaashi! Well, I’ll be off then. I’ll see you around?”

Akaashi offered him a nod and it seemed to be enough for Bokuto to sport a grin as he waved goodbye, leaving the door swinging on his exit. 

Akaashi watched him go, somewhat dreading the future with this new arrival.

-

Akaashi had loose business hours. He was able to leave the shop when he wanted because most of his work was putting together flower arrangements. If he left the shop to go somewhere, most everyone knew by now to call Akaashi instead of walking in if they wanted an arrangement made anyways. 

He was coming back from the book store when he saw two of his neighbors leaning against the flower shop’s door, gesturing animatedly as they talked.

“Keiji!” Ms. Ishida waved to him. As he got closer, Ms. Ono nodded in acknowledgement, most likely wanting to make sure he saw her greet him. 

“Ono-san, Ishida-san,” he bowed, greeting them. Fishing into his pocket, he grasped his keys, and steadily unlocked the door so they could all make their way out of the freezing cold. They just fell out of autumn, but it had turned cold quickly enough that they all had to wear at least two or three layers.

“How’ve you been, Keiji?” Ms. Ishida hummed as she twiddled with the crochet needles, the movements paused as she took a seat at the bench he put beside the window a year or so ago for anyone who felt like sitting around, but mostly for these types of visits. 

“Good, thank you,” Akaashi nodded, walking around the counter to tidy up some loose petals and stems on the ground behind it. 

“Good to hear. Speaking of, did you hear about the tattoo shop’s new arrival? He was going around greeting everyone. He came over and complimented the color of my walls, Takara!” Ms. Ono’s, or Ono Takara, eyes widened. 

The three of them often asked each other for interior design advice. The other week, Ms. Ishida had come to Ms. Ono asking what she’d think about the walls in her sandwich shop being a light pastel pink. Ms. Ono was ecstatic at the idea and demanded that she do it in an instant. Ms. Ishida was very proud of the outcome and had invited everyone over to see it. 

“Oh, what a lovely young man. He came over to greet me as well. When he jumped at the sight of the mochi that I had on on display, I couldn't help but offer him a few.” Ms. Ono breathed out a chuckle while Ms. Ishida hummed in amusement, “He was very kind, I look forward to having him in the neighborhood.” 

Ms. Ishida nodded, agreeing, “how about you Keiji? Has he come over?” 

Before he could catch himself, his face twisted remembering Bokuto’s visit. Ms. Ono laughed at him, Ms. Ishida hiding her smirk behind a lazy hand, “I see. Was he too much for our dear Keiji?”

“No,” he looked up from where he was focused on tying bows around vases for future use to glare at the two, “he did visit and yes, I did properly greet and welcome him before you ask.”

She nodded in approval, “What did you think of him?”

What did he think of Bokuto? He was overly confident, he was loud, and unaware of personal space. But also in the past week he’d seen the other, purely coincidentally, all around town. 

The other day he had gone to the craft store to pick up a few supplies. He had spotted Bokuto in one of the art aisles, staring intently between two objects in his hand. He didn’t think the man was capable of such a serious expression based off of their initial interaction. 

His eyebrows were furrowed, jaw clenched, and calculating golden eyes were flicking between the two pencils. Akaashi thought it was odd for someone to be so caught up on deciding between pencils, of all things, but he was also curious why exactly Bokuto was. 

Another day, Akaashi had seen Bokuto talking to the butcher. Akaashi should have kept walking but the curiosity from the craft store was still lingering even days later. He was curious to know what Bokuto was like so he stayed put, hiding in an alley. 

The butcher and him were having a great laugh. He learned that Bokuto loved to talk, a lot. Which was expected but he also found out that Bokuto was great at asking questions. He even managed to find out a few things about the butcher that Akaashi himself didn’t know. It turns out the butcher had a cat, her name was Lillian. He also learned that he goes hiking often. Bokuto asked if he could join sometime, the butcher agreed quite happily from what he could hear. 

And just yesterday he saw Bokuto sitting in one of the cafes by himself enjoying what looked to be porridge. Though he was by himself, he was having the time of his life. Akaashi enjoyed being alone as well but he was a little at awe that a man who seemed so extroverted was capable of creating fun for himself wherever he went; Akaashi felt a strike of envy digging itself into his veins.

He felt the urge to go sit with Bokuto. He wanted to demand that Bokuto put his mind on a platter for Akaashi to analyze. But instead, he continued walking to Ms. Ishida’s, ready to ignore his feelings in favor of a nice lunch and some distracting small talk.

“I’m unsure,” Akaashi answered honestly, “he was nice even if he was a bit loud.”

-

Akaashi walked to the fruit market with a trained focus. He’d been craving a plum all day but he was so busy with finishing up orders he didn’t have even a moment to go. So the second he finished the last bouquet, not caring about the devastating clean up he would have to undoubtedly do the next day, he locked up, and walked to the fruit market with an urgency that you wouldn’t be able to recognize unless you knew him well. 

Akaashi squeezed through the tight aisles, careful to not bump into anyone or any of the stands. He spotted the plums and at that moment Akaashi swore he could’ve shed a tear or two. But before he could reach it, the owner saw him and as much as he enjoyed Mr. Kojima’s company, he really just wanted to get some plums and make his way home. 

They said a temporary farewell with the promise of talking again and Akaashi was finally able to reach the plum stand.

He stared at the plums, analyzing them. They were a deep purple with touches of red here and there. Some were pitifully bruised, that was expected but he was looking for-

“Akaashi?” 

Akaashi had been too busy trying to find the perfect plum, he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. He cursed himself for not even looking around once because now a particular golden eyed man had called his name and Akaashi had no choice but to talk to said man. He turned, bowing to him, “Bokuto-san.”

“What are you doing here?” Bokuto tipped his head, eyes filled with genuine curiosity. 

Akaashi found the look in his eyes a little frustrating. If he had to guess, Bokuto easily trusted and got attached to people quickly, he just seemed like the type. Since he moved into the town, Bokuto had talked to anyone and everyone. Everyone was equally quick to respond with excitement of their own. 

It took a while for Akaashi to form the connections he had now. He’d never been a talkative person. He didn’t have many friends throughout school, so moving here he expected about the same. When he did, he was alone for months, not wanting to go through the tedious task of getting to know the owners of neighboring stores. He didn’t want to engage in small talk, he hated it. He would rather be alone. 

Well, that was until Ms. Ishida invited Akaashi to her and Ms. Ono’s afternoon teas. Akaashi had declined the first time, he had actually declined for weeks despite being invited every morning. Akaashi thought it was bewildering at first, how someone could be so persistent, especially over just him. 

On a whim, maybe even impulse, he decided one day to go. He had walked into Ms. Ishida’s sandwich shop and as promised, Ms. Ono and her were sitting and talking, not paying mind to their cooling teas. 

He was nervous to join them, he thought that they would usher him out because he declined for so long. But much to his relief, they welcomed him with toothy smiles and a ‘come, come, sit. I’ll get you a cup.’ 

He wasn’t used to such easily genuine people. He had gotten used to the people of the town, everyone sincerely cared about everyone here. 

He wasn’t used to Bokuto though, not yet.

Akaashi found himself stumbling over his own mind. He tried to find a proper answer but, he regrettably landed on, “uh… um… plum.” 

Akaashi watched Bokuto’s eyes narrow, much to Akaashi’s horror. Akaashi opened his mouth to continue explaining but Bokuto spoke before he could. “They any good?” Bokuto stepped closer to the plum’s display, which was once again very much in Akaashi’s personal space. 

“Very.” Akaashi said earnestly. He’d been craving these plums specifically all day and he really just wanted to grab some and leave.

“You seem to really like them,” Bokuto smirked at him, looking up from the display. Akaashi effectively ignored the small voice in his mind that said that he was cute. “I just moved here from the city. I've never been here before, even though I'll be working here for a while. Are these plums regional?”

“Yes. I’m from the city too and I never had them until I moved here.” 

Bokuto grinned down at him, excitement obvious around the fact that he was also from the city. Akaashi picked a few plums to avoid looking at him. Akaashi could feel his watchful eyes despite it. 

Akaashi glanced at him to see Bokuto graced a thoughtful expression. It was quite a face. What with his bottom lip jutting out, eyes narrowed, and head resting on his palm. “What is it, Bokuto-san?”

“Well I want to try one! But I don't know what to look for in order to get the best one…” he grumbled disappointedly.

Akaashi couldn’t help but smile a little. The legitimately sad look on his eyes at the prospect of not being able to choose a good plum was quite amusing. But, he didn’t think the look suited Bokuto.

“If you would like, Bokuto-san,” Bokuto perked up, waiting, “I can pick one out for you.”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto exclaims, throwing an arm around his shoulders in gratitude. “That would be great, thank you!” 

Akaashi hummed, acknowledging Bokuto’s words as he reached for a plum to hand to Bokuto. 

“Thanks, Akaashi,” Bokuto smiled as he grabbed a hold of the plum from Akaashi’s hands. But this smile is different from the other smiles Akaashi had seen from him. It was soft. 

It showed in the transparent blanket that laid over his eyes. Bokuto was next to him, still standing closer than Akaashi would prefer, but Bokuto’s eyes said he was living through a memory.

Akaashi cleared his throat, causing Bokuto to look at him with now clear eyes, “I'll be buying my plums now.” 

They ended up buying their plums together, nothing was said but, truthfully, Akaashi was grateful for it. He was pleased to find out Bokuto was very much capable of holding a comfortable silence. 

But that comfortable silence was carried with them as Bokuto, for whatever reason, continued walking beside him to the flower shop.

Well that was before Bokuto piped up. “Hey Akaashi…”

Akaashi shifted his head to look at Bokuto, hoping that was enough to spur him on to continue. He didn’t seem to notice, much to Akaashi’s dismay so he quietly answered ‘yes.’

“Why do you use the '-san' honorific? We’re about the same age right?” 

Akaashi mentally scoffed, there was no way. “If you don’t mind my asking, how old are you Bokuto-san?”

“Uh... 26! How about you?” 

Akaashi almost tripped at his answer, he really had thought Bokuto was, at least, four or more years older than him. With a held back sigh, he steadily answered, 

“24, I turn 25 in December.”

“24?! How old did you think I was Akaashi?!” 

Akaashi’s face warmed up, he supposed he’s not the best at guessing ages. Embarrassed, he muttered, “I don't know, just older.” 

“The gray is just hair dye y’know,” he teased, a smirk stretching his face. 

Akaashi gave him a light shove, causing Bokuto to fall over a little but he was too busy laughing to care. “Alright, enough- stop laughing!”

Bokuto was doubled over, near to literal tears. That's also something about Bokuto that Akaashi was noticing. Bokuto felt everything at what seemed like 100% capacity, he didn’t want to imagine what a furious or sorrowful Bokuto looked like.

They continued walking to Akaashi’s shop, Bokuto giggled here and there and Akaashi ignored it, wanting to regain some of his pride.

But the odd thing was that Bokuto was still walking beside him. Bokuto walking back with him wasn’t necessarily a problem but it was unusual. Akaashi had never spent this long of a time with Bokuto. Bokuto had never come over to have small talk with Akaashi like the others do. Akaashi had yet to even go see Bokuto in his shop. So why was Bokuto following him back as if they had planned it? 

As Akaashi came to a stop at the flower shop's front door, he figured, what better way to find out than simply asking. 

“Bokuto-san?”

“Still with the honorifics,” he hummed. Akaashi looked over to make sure Bokuto wasn’t actually upset with him using honorifics. By the slight quirk pulling on the corners of his mouth, he could conclude that he most definitely wasn’t. Akaashi might even go as far to say that Bokuto looked amused.

“Yes, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi had been raised strictly, he wasn’t letting go of that ‘-san’ anytime soon, but he could attempt a joke.

He wasn’t sure it successfully came across as a joke until Bokuto let out a string of giggles, “oh you have jokes?” Akaashi chuckled along but not without a roll of his eyes. He wouldn’t admit it but he was proud to have made Bokuto laugh. “Sorry, you were saying something though!”

“Right,” he nodded, “why are you walking with me?” 

“Agh! I knew I was forgetting something... I wanted to ask something!” 

Akaashi nodded hesitantly. He raked his memory to think of anything he could want to ask. The only thing that came to mind was his plum picking method. It couldn’t be that but he would understand if it was, they were very good plums. “Okay.”

“Uh, I was wondering if I could order some small vases, flowers included inside them, of course! Where else would they say go, I mean that would just be dumb...” Bokuto nervously chuckled, fidgeting, and averting Akaashi’s eyes and he couldn’t understand why.

“You’re rambling Bokuto-san,” he said gently. He wasn’t trying to hurt his feelings, just trying to hopefully get him back on track. 

Bokuto nodded, “right! I want some flowers to put around the shop and I thought who better to ask! I would pay of course.”

When Bokuto stopped, he looked at Akaashi with big hopeful eyes. Bokuto’s question lingered in Akaashi’s mind and Akaashi couldn’t help the smile spreading on his face. He didn’t think Bokuto could get so nervous, especially when just asking for flowers.

He chuckled at the thought, not even attempting to hold back. He took a breath before meeting the other’s golden eyes. They were filled with an emotion that Akaashi didn’t want to place at the moment but, still, he reveled in it. “Of course, Bokuto-san, whatever you should want I will make,” he said with a permanent smile resting on his lips.

“Awesome,” Bokuto muttered before looking away. “Um- would pink be a good color? Maybe pink and yellow?”

“Pink and yellow is good.”

-

The next day, Akaashi had stopped Bokuto the moment he saw him walking past the store window. The previous day he had forgotten to ask Bokuto the details of the order so, stopping him, he asked his usual basic questions of how much he was willing to spend, what flowers he would want because the cost depended on them, when he wanted them by, etc.

Finally having the information, he thanked Bokuto and paced around the shop’s floor, gathering the materials. While picking out the flowers and decorations for the arrangements, Akaashi wouldn’t admit it but he selected the best of everything that Bokuto specified wanting.

This would be the first time Bokuto gets to see his work and for a reason he didn't want to think about, he wanted to impress the man. 

He arranged every flower, every bow, every leaf to its just-right position. Bokuto said he wanted about six flower filled vases. Akaashi had been in the tattoo shop many times before, not to get tattoos, mostly to talk and check out what tattoos were being done at the moment. With that being said, Akaashi wasn’t sure where they could fit six vases. The vases weren’t huge, Bokuto had purposefully asked for vases in small diameter. Akaashi looked forward to seeing the vases displayed, he would have to find an excuse to go.

He would have the excuse of taking the vases to them but Bokuto said that he and Mrs. Watabe insisted that they would do it themselves. He was unsure why but he knew not to go against Mrs. Watabe. 

The last time he had challenged her, he swore she nearly bit his hand off. Mrs. Watabe was a very athletic tattoo artist, sometimes she went on hikes with the butcher. He knew she was incredibly strong but when he saw her barreling down the sidewalk with a truckload of canvas bags filled to the brim with food hanging off of her forearms alone, he thought to offer help. 

Akaashi didn’t regret many decisions in his life but the way she had stopped dead in her tracks that day, serving Akaashi the most bone chilling stare he’s ever received in his life. The only thing he could think to do was deeply bow, say a stiff ‘I'm sorry,’ and practically sprint off. 

So if Bokuto was saying he and Mrs. Watabe would pick them up, he was no way in hell saying no.

-

“Hey!”

“Good morning, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi held back a smile as he bowed to Bokuto, who walked through the flower shop’s door. 

“Are they done? Are they?” Akaashi tried not to laugh, he sounded like an excited dog. “I’ve been waiting a whole day Akaashi, say they’re done,” he moped, Akaashi couldn’t help the amused hum that escaped his mouth.

“I don’t know Bokuto-san,” he teased, if they weren’t already done it would be just downright cruel to mess with Bokuto like this. “You might have to wait a day more.” 

“Akaashi, now’s not the time for a joke!” Bokuto scolded him. 

Akaashi hummed, “and if I’m not?”

“I'll cry every night, every day. I'll sit on this bench,” he landed on the bench with an ‘umph,’ “and stare at you until you finish them.”

Akaashi giggled. 

Giggled.

He couldn’t believe Bokuto pulled a giggle out of him. And by Bokuto’s expression, he couldn’t believe it either. “Alright, alright. They are finished, Bokuto-san. Where is Watabe-san?” 

“Uh, right! She just had to finish up something, she should be here in a second.” 

“Great.” Akaashi paused, he didn’t know if Bokuto would want to help him but he couldn’t imagine Bokuto wouldn’t be happy to lend a hand or two. “Did you want to help me take the vases out of the floral cooler as we wait?”

“Sure!”

Bokuto hopped off the bench, following Akaashi around the counter to the cooler beside it. Akaashi handed them to him two by two, warning him to be careful with the water inside. “I’ve never been in one of these,” Bokuto said lightly, not really paying attention to their current task.

“And? What do you think?” Akaashi asked mindlessly but he was finding that Bokuto’s answers were more than amusing so he looked forward to what he had to say.

Bokuto’s face scrunched up as he thought, “it’s cold.”

Akaashi breathed out a laugh, “it seems so, Bokuto-san.”

“Bokuto? Akaashi? You guys in here?” Mrs. Watabe called out from the front.

Bokuto placed the last vase onto the counter being criminally careful with it, to then rush to the front, greeting Mrs. Watabe with a big jump that nearly knocked her down with the heavy bear hug. 

Akaashi was scared she would scold him for it, he braced himself for the inevitable yell but instead a roar of laughter sounded. His eyes shot wide, this couldn’t be Mrs. Watabe. 

Bokuto got off her and walked over to Akaashi, grabbing his bicep to pull Akaashi over. “He finished them!”

“So he did.” She nodded to Bokuto, then turned to Akaashi, “Akaashi, good to see you,” she said with a smooth voice and a kind smile.

“Watabe-san,” he said politely but returned the smile as he bowed. 

“Well, let’s not waste a moment. Bokuto, pay the fine man, I’ll get half the vases as you do.” 

“Yes ma’am!” Bokuto puffed up his chest as he saluted. With a cackle, she grabbed the vases, kicked the door slightly calling out a ‘sorry’ for kicking it, and moseyed on over to the tattoo shop. 

“Is card okay?” Bokuto asked sheepishly. It was an odd sight but Akaashi couldn’t help but think it was endearing. 

-

Akaashi slumped in his chair. It was a slow day and he didn’t have to start his next order until a few days. 

He tried reading, he even tried cleaning but nothing could make the time pass.

Yesterday, Bokuto and Mrs. Watabe had picked up the flowers. Bokuto had left with a grin saying that he couldn’t wait to have the flowers in the shop, that they looked better than Bokuto could have ever expected. 

Akaashi’s mind wandered to where exactly they might have put the flower filled vases. He was incredibly curious if Bokuto had moved around furniture in the shop as well. He wondered if Bokuto had a good sense for interior design. Bokuto wore pretty decent clothing though he was usually seen wearing a big black and yellow coat because of how cold it was at the moment. 

Akaashi figured that they must have put the vases in place by now so without another thought he sprung out of his seat, replaced the ‘open’ sign to his ‘be right back’ sign, and walked to the tattoo shop.

Swinging the door open, he was immediately greeted with the warmth of the studio. It made sense for the shop to be so warm, people had to have lots of skin exposed at times. But it meant he was hot now so he had to peel off his coat. 

His hands hanging the coat on his arm froze for a beat when he saw one of his arrangements on the reception desk. He looked around, hoping to spot the others but there were none in sight. 

“Watabe-san?” He tried calling out.

“Akaashi?” A small voice called out instead.

Akaashi didn’t know why it shocked him so much, really it was common sense. But Bokuto answering back when he expected Mrs. Watabe’s left him inarticulate for a moment. “Uh, yes, it’s me. Akaashi.” He wanted to walk out the door, how Akaashi managed to embarrass himself in almost every conversation they’ve had was far beyond him.

“Akaashi!” Akaashi heard loud footsteps coming closer until Bokuto was a foot away from him, Akaashi wanted to back away, they were much too close. Akaashi could clearly see Bokuto’s bright eyes and he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle that. 

But what was worse was that for the first time, Bokuto was sleeveless, thanks to the warmed studio. Akaashi didn’t know what he was expecting Bokuto’s figure to look like but it definitely wasn’t what he was seeing now.

Bokuto had the body of an athlete, his biceps and forearms looking large enough to pick Akaashi up. Decorated on his arms though, that was what caught his eye immediately.

He had one long orange-red tattoo that curved around his arms, seemingly connecting across his shoulders, and down to his wrists, no black lining which surprisingly made the sleeves pop even more. Akaashi thought the tattoo was beautiful. He’d never seen many tattoos until he came to the town but of the ones he had seen, he’d never been infatuated with a tattoo like this one.

Akaashi, by then, had figured that it was most likely that Bokuto had tattoos. But he wasn’t expecting such simplicity in a tattoo for the easily excitable man. He imagined Bokuto to have a flurry of multi colored tattoos that fit together for no other reason than them being on his body. 

Every time Akaashi thought he had Bokuto figured out, another puzzle piece displayed itself and Akaashi was once again stranded of an idea.

“Finally coming to see me, eh?” Bokuto smirked but it wasn’t a cocky smirk, it was welcoming.

Akaashi rolled his eyes, attempting to distract from his warming face. “You’re embarrassing, Bokuto-san. I was wondering how the flowers were doing,” he lied with a chin jutting up to falsely back him up.

“No chance! You wanted to check out my work, huh? Well, c’mon then!” 

Without Akaashi agreeing or disagreeing, Bokuto tugged on Akaashi’s wrist, leading them to Bokuto’s area. The small rooms were blocked off with walls for privacy, he assumed anyways.

As expected, which Akaashi was relieved to think because at least he was able to read Bokuto most of the time, his space was a mess. Not dirty, just cluttered. Mrs. Watabe would never stand for a dirty space. 

But never mind the mess, he finally spotted his flower arrangements. All but two, one being on the receptionist’s desk, were in his work space. Bokuto was rambling about something but Akaashi wasn’t listening. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to listen, it was that he couldn’t tear his eyes and mind away from the vases that sat scattered around the space. Akaashi was confused why and before he could stop to analyze, he asked rightout. 

“Why are all the vases in your room?” 

Bokuto froze, his face dusting a light pink. “I- uh, I was going to put them all around the studio but uh… they were so pretty I wanted to see them all. Watabe wouldn’t let me put all of them in here though,” he pouted, “so we compromised with one being on the receptionist’s desk.” 

He couldn’t process the flutter in his chest that he felt hearing Bokuto compliment him, even if indirectly, or how endearing Bokuto’s pout was, he could only think about, “and the sixth one?” 

Bokuto stammered, his cheeks rising a warmer hue. Where could the sixth vase be that caused him to be that embarrassed? “W-well um,” Bokuto’s feet were fidgeting, he wouldn’t meet Akaashi’s eyes. “It’s in my apartment,” Akaashi just barely caught the words as they came out.

Bokuto felt he had to be embarrassed about it which made Akaashi’s heart falter a little. If he was wanting flowers for his own place, he could’ve asked. He felt sad that Bokuto would think he wasn’t allowed to ask, for whatever reason. 

Especially when Akaashi’s upstairs apartment looked like a greenhouse. 

But even more than the sorrow he felt for him, he felt flattered. It filled him with pride to know that Bokuto, after all the effort Akaashi put in to make the arrangements the best they could be for him, that he did end up liking Akaashi’s work as much as he had hoped.

“That’s great, Bokuto-san. I’m glad you liked them so much,” he said with a sincere smile, hoping it would come across. 

And it did. Bokuto visibly relaxed, shoulders falling, feet stilling, and his eyes squinting to make way for the grin growing on his face. “Really?!” Akaashi nodded. “Awesome. You’re really cool, Akaashi!” 

Akaashi felt his face warm up, he dreaded having Bokuto point it out so he attempted to divert the conversation. ”Thank you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi tried a gentle smile. “Uh- I want to see your designs, will you show me?”

“Of course, one second!” 

Bokuto was incredibly talented. His work was very motion driven. There was a certain fluidity in the lines he drew. He liked the colors black and blue a lot, he couldn’t understand why but Bokuto had defended himself saying they’re the two most ‘satisfying to look at’ colors. Despite being in a field where color mattered, Akaashi didn’t find himself working with either color much so he decided to take Bokuto’s word for it. 

“I have more art at my apartment, actually. It’s a lot different though so… chance I could bribe you with a coffee?”

“Hm, I’m not sure…” he teased. Akaashi already wanted to say yes but he wondered more what Bokuto would say.

“Akaashi!” He whined, “Oh I know, I have some leftover cake.”

“Not a sweets person.”

“I’m not sure I want you in my home anymore, Akaashi,” Bokuto narrowed his eyes, pretending to glare at Akaashi. 

Akaashi let out a light laugh, throwing up his hands as a sign of relenting. “Cake it is.”

They walk in comfortable, warm silence to Bokuto’s apartment. It wasn’t too far from the line of shops, just a block or so away. He said he was renting from an older woman and while that wasn’t an issue, he’d rather live alone, or with someone he knew. Akaashi understood, he wouldn’t want to live with someone he didn’t know well either. 

They walked the creaky stairs up to Bokuto’s apartment, to enter into the warmer open space that was Bokuto’s bedroom/living room. Just like his workspace, it was a mess, but not dirty. It was mostly a mess because of the art supplies and canvases spread about the room. 

Paint brushes were found on any surface they couldn’t roll off of, some were on the floor from said rolling. There were stacks of giant and comparably tiny canvases leaning against the walls. Paint that could only get off the walls with a sander and an opaque layer of white paint to cover it up. Akaashi wondered if every artist’s home looked like this. 

“Go ahead and sit at the couch, move whatever you have to. Or go ahead and look around! You can pick up any canvas off the ground just don’t touch the one on the easel over there and you're good! I’ll be back,” he left the room, shutting the door, before Akaashi could get a word in. 

He decided to look at the art instead of sitting on the couch, where he would most likely get a paint stain on his pants. But he was also deathly interested in how his other artworks could be different from his tattoo designs. He looked at the standing easel in the center of the room first. The colors were clean, unlike what he would’ve expected. Purples and blues covered the canvas, the colors formed straight edges yet the actual image looked out of focus. It looked to be unfinished, Akaashi would have to ask for an update on it.

He was nervous to rifle through the stacks of paintings, he didn't want to damage any of them but Bokuto himself had given Akaashi permission.

Picking up the nearest one to him, he recognized the image to be a woman. She was beautiful in an unconventional way. That could be Akaashi’s sexuality talking but never mind that. She had mixed matched features. Eyes that didn’t go together, a mouth that only had half a top lip. A nose that wasn’t even painted in, the sketch lines still being visible. 

He set it down, reaching for the next. This one was completely different from the last. This was a desert scene. Everything that was to be seen was far in the distance, but the detail of everything from the foreground to the small town in the distance, was more than impressive. He would have thought it was a photograph had it not been for the paint dipping around the edges. 

He kept rifling through them, marveling at how a man so all over the place as Bokuto was could produce such different yet captivating paintings.

He continued looking through them even when he heard the door open. Bokuto hadn’t said anything yet and Akaashi wasn’t done looking. But he felt Bokuto looking at him. 

A few minutes of Akaashi looking through the heaps of paintings, not being able to handle Bokuto looking at him any longer, he finally spoke up. “Um,” he stood up from where he was crouched, facing the artist, “these are incredible.”

Akaashi couldn’t grasp it, he wanted to see anything and everything Bokuto had ever and would ever produce. He was filled with an overwhelming feeling of wanting to jump through Bokuto’s ear to get to his brain just to get closer to understand what went on in there.

Bokuto’s usual resting face, the one that was always grinning and excited, was now softer. “Thanks,'' Bokuto said lightly, looking up from the ground to meet Akaashi’s eyes that were undoubtedly wide eyed and dripping of awe. “You really like them?” 

Akaashi had half a mind to strangle the man on the spot. “Yes!” Akaashi coughed in an attempt to cover up his impulsive response, “of course I do, who wouldn’t?”

Bokuto walked over to the paintings, crouching to shuffle through them. He held up a few of them, he had his deciding face on the go. Akaashi recognized the expression from the crafting store. Putting one down, Bokuto stood, “here.” 

Akaashi reached to hold the canvas before he could think about what he was doing. 

It was a painting of the ocean. But the colors were different, they were muddy. The ocean was filled with reds and the highlights were a mix of lime greens and yellows. Despite the ocean being detailed and enticing, the sky was nothing but a saturated blue. “For me?” Akaashi asked breathlessly.

“Yeah! Unless you don’t want it I just thought-”

“No! No um, I just… why?”

“What do you mean why?” Bokuto asked and Akaashi despised his genuineness at the moment, he didn’t want to have to say it aloud. 

“Aren’t you going to sell these? And what is this, oil paint? Isn’t it expensive, Bokuto-san?”

“It is expensive,” he said with a history of his distaste showing, “and no I don't sell them.”

“Why not? You’re amazing!” Akaashi tried but failed to bring himself back to his normal, calm self. 

He really liked the painting Bokuto was giving him and if he was being completely honest, he liked it more because Bokuto had picked it out. He didn’t dwell on why but he didn’t have to for it to be special to him.

“I don’t know,” he said with a bashful shrug, “it’s a hobby, just something I do to pass the time ‘cause I like it. I never thought to sell it.” 

Akaashi’s mind felt like it was going to implode. But he didn’t want Bokuto to think he wasn’t grateful or that he didn’t want the painting in the first place so he cleared his throat. “I- Well, thank you, Bokuto-san. It means a lot.”

-

They sat at the table in the ‘living room’ in Bokuto’s room, sipping their coffees and occasionally taking a bite of the cake slice they were sharing. Bokuto was eating most of it, but Akaashi didn’t mind. 

Bokuto was talking about a show from his childhood, how he had always wanted to have superpowers. But he stopped talking midway, “Akaashi?” 

“Mm?”

“Do you have a hobby too? Outside of flowers?” Akaashi smiled, he did enjoy caring for flowers very much, he didn’t mind how they overtook a lot of his life.

“Yes, I write sometimes.”

“Really?!” Bokuto banged his leg against the side of the table, he hissed at the pain but still moved closer to Akaashi acting as if he hadn’t just his leg. “Would you ever show me some of it?”

Akaashi had never been confident about his writing. He wrote all throughout his life but never enough to feel he had it down. He was starting to trust Bokuto but he couldn’t be sure that Bokuto wouldn’t say something to hurt his feelings. “Maybe one day,” he offered, close in promise.

“I can’t wait! I bet you’re a great writer. You’re always in that head of yours, I bet there’s great stuff going on up there. Do you ever write about flowers? Is that too cliche? Maybe you have a dark past that makes your poetry all brooding-” Akaashi poked the side of the man’s stomach, causing him to let out an ‘agh!’ As much as Akaashi was uncomfortable about his writing, Bokuto made him want to share it when he talked like that. 

“Thank you, Bokuto-san. Your words are very kind, even if they’re alluding to me having a tragic past.” Akaashi breathed out a laugh.

-

They spent a few more hours there before Mrs. Watabe called him, telling him to ‘get your ass back here, boy’ so he and Akaashi ushered out, walking back to the town’s main street. 

The walk was quiet but halfway through the walk, Akaashi was the one to say something first.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi paused to make sure he had the other’s attention, and he did. “I need to ask you something.” 

Bokuto’s steps slowed, nerves obvious, “yeah?”

“I would like to commission you to paint a mural on the side of my building.” He said confidently, voice never wavering despite Akaashi being nervous that Bokuto would turn the offer down.

“Hm?” Bokuto’s eyelids rapidly blinked, “what do you mean?” Bokuto said with rising intrigue.

“I want you to paint the side of my flower shop, Bokuto-san. Maybe a landscape but I’m open to your vision.” Akaashi paused. He glanced to see what Bokuto’s reaction was so far only to see wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Akaashi sucked in a breath, willing to take the chance, “I trust you.”

Bokuto stopped walking, Akaashi stopped too and turned to face him. Akaashi was nervous but he remained still in his movements and neutral in his expression. 

Bokuto looked up at Akaashi from where they were on the ground, and in a small voice he asked, “you would want me, trust me, to do that?” 

Akaashi could scream. He stepped closer to send the message, “yes, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto grinned, ear to ear, practically bouncing from where he stood. With a spring through the air, Bokuto was wrapping his arms around Akaashi’s neck, engulfing him in a bear hug. He was nice and warm, Akaashi relished the few seconds of warmth before Bokuto pulled away. “I’ll do it then!” He said with the excitement still coursing through him. “I have no appointments tomorrow, I could do it then?”

“Tomorrow it is,” Akaashi looked forward to it. He didn’t have anything going on either so he would be able to watch him work, he was most excited for that. 

“Whatever supplies you need to buy, I’ll pay you back for it on top of the cost of the mural itself.” 

Bokuto nodded fervently, “right!” His grin fell, “Uh, I gotta go. Watabe’s giving me a look-”

“Say no more. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bokuto-san, I'll be in the shop a few hours before noon.”

-

Bokuto arrived early, it made sense that he was an early riser. Whenever Akaashi was up particularly early, he always saw Bokuto pass by his window in running wear.

Akaashi had greeted him with tired eyes, sipping a coffee he brought down with him. “Morning, Bokuto-san.”

“Morning!” 

“What did you bring?” He nodded his head to the bags he was gripping. 

“Well the side of a building is a big area despite yours being on the smaller side, so I bought some heavy duty paints! I figured if they can go on inside walls they can go on outside walls. The owner told me I could use this varnish to help the paint last, though, just in case. And y’know, I also bought some bigger paint brushes!”

Akaashi nodded, he was happy to see Bokuto so excited to paint the mural. It shot down some of the nerves he’d had the previous night. 

He had a hard time sleeping. He was nervous that Bokuto would reject the offer still, despite already agreeing to it. But he had given Bokuto his trust, he was sure Bokuto wasn’t the type to go back on something he already agreed to do. It wouldn’t stop Akaashi from worrying but hearing that Bokuto had thought it through comforted him. 

“C’mon then. I’ve got some newspapers we can lay out on the ground.”

They set up the alley way and Bokuto brought out a journal, Akaashi couldn’t help but peer over his shoulder. “Are those the ideas?”

Bokuto hummed in agreement, something he’d never heard Bokuto do. He enjoyed the calmer response but he also appreciated the bomb that was Bokuto’s excitement. “Yeah, I did a few thumbnails yesterday during and after work. I know you said you trust my vision but I wanna show you some of the ideas first!” 

Akaashi nodded, he did trust Bokuto but he wouldn’t ever oppose seeing more of his artwork even if it was just sketches. 

They agreed on one after Akaashi first glanced and instantly fell in love with one. What Akaashi liked about it was the way it combined both Bokuto’s painting style and the style of his tattoo designs. He would enjoy seeing it come alive.

Akaashi brought out a few stools, for anything Bokuto decided he wanted to put on them, or to sit. Akaashi brought a chair out for himself. Bokuto hadn’t said anything so far but he wanted to be respectful, “is it okay if I sit and watch?”

Bokuto smirked, “if you want, though you won’t see much but my back.”

Akaashi was done rejecting the thoughts. Akaashi would be glad to sit there and watch Bokuto, who crouched on the ground in paint covered jeans and a tight sleeveless top despite the cold weather. He had a nice row of back muscles that flexed anytime he moved and Akaashi couldn’t say no to a front row seat just like that.

Akaashi hummed, otherwise remaining quiet.

As Bokuto worked, Akaashi would go to and from inside the building, offering to bring Bokuto anything each time he would. Sometimes he’d ask for water or any snack he had and other times Bokuto would say ‘no thanks’ and Akaashi would bring him something anyways. 

Normally he would respect a guest’s wishes but the first time Bokuto said ‘no thanks,’ Akaashi had brought down a cookie and Bokuto all but begged him to try some. 

This time around, he brought down two cups of hot cocoa. He didn’t want Bokuto to catch a cold even though he assured Akaashi he was fine. 

He set Bokuto's cup down a few feet away from him, mumbling to him that the cup was there. Bokuto grabbed for it, holding the cup within his hands, absorbing the warmth before taking a sip and ‘ahhing.’ “Thanks, Akaashi.”

“Mhm.”

Setting the cup down, Bokuto resumed painting. Akaashi was somewhat aware of how long a piece of art could take and he was fairly sure something like this could take at least two days to finish. But Bokuto was almost halfway through, Akaashi assumed, and it had only been three hours. 

“Bokuto-san.”

“Hm…?”

Akaashi had been surprised that Bokuto was a quiet painter but it made sense when he thought about it. His art was careful and precise, even in his tattooing he knew that despite the movement, everything still had to be very intentional. “Where does your inspiration come from?” Akaashi asked. 

He’d been wondering all day the previous day and for the few hours he spent sitting behind the man, he still couldn’t come to any conclusion.

“Mm… I like moving. I like that you can make something look like it’s moving, like there’s life to it, on an unmoving surface.” He pauses, brush hanging in his hand, “Usually it’s things like when I go to see car races or watch a video of an orchestra playing together in perfect unison but lately it’s changed.”

“Changed?” Akaashi was curious, was that most recent canvas evidence of his inspiration changing? 

“Yeah,” Bokuto turns to his side, glancing at Akaashi, “lately it’s been someone I’ve come to know.” Bokuto smiled but his fingers fidgeted with the brush handle.

Bokuto’s body language screamed that he was neutral but his eyes, those golden eyes, said differently. There was an emotion there, a message. Akaashi couldn’t deny a single thing with those eyes merely existing.

Akaashi liked Bokuto. 

He had been denying it since he met him but there was definitely a difference now between the feelings. 

When they first met, he thought Bokuto was handsome, sure, but he thought he would be an obnoxious type of person. It had only been a week? He wasn’t sure, but he was sure that however long had passed, Bokuto had grown on him the way sugar coats your tongue the second you bite into something sweet. 

Bokuto was addicting yet calming to be around. It was easy to be around him. He couldn’t remember a time he’d ever found such ease in company. They hadn’t known each other for too long, but Akaashi could confidently say that if Bokuto would let him, he would like to enjoy his company for a long while.

He’s seen so many sides to Bokuto he never thought were possible. However the side he was infatuated with was the one who did art because he liked it, no other reason. Someday he would ask Bokuto the meaning to every single one of his paintings but now was not that moment.

“I see.” Akaashi hoped that he was understanding what Bokuto meant. “In a good way I hope?” he said, hoping his nerves weren’t catching up to his speech.

A warm smile spread across Bokuto’s face, “no, he’s a horrible influence.” Akaashi’s face dropped a little but the growing smirk on Bokuto’s face said that was the wrong reaction. “He’s the worst of the bunch. Though, he can pick out a good plum. He’s also really pretty so I think that’s enough for me to not care.” 

Akaashi held back a creeping grin, “and the name of this pretty man?” Akaashi egged him on. Akaashi was sure it was him and he could rebound off the walls with happiness but he wouldn’t give up a good tease against Bokuto. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy,” he said, no malice evident in his voice or his golden eyes. Just fondness. He’s always looked at Akaashi with fond eyes. 

Bokuto turned and continued to paint.

-

Bokuto almost fell on his ass at the sound of a knock waking him up. He cursed the fact that he was a light sleeper as he got up. Not bothering to slip a shirt on, he walked down the stairs but he made sure his pant’s strings were tight enough to make the elastic hug his waist. The last thing he wanted was for the owner to have to see that. 

He opened the door with a yawn, but no one was in sight. He looked down to see- a bouquet? A big one at that. Akaashi wasn’t anywhere to be seen though, he pouted at the thought. 

He grabbed the vase’s trunk, his eyes widening at the card that was attached to it. The front said ‘Bokuto-san’ in beautiful calligraphy, he smiled fondly at the image of Akaashi sitting down to write his name in carefully practiced calligraphy. 

He two-stepped his way back up to his room, shutting the door behind him, and set the vase beside his bed where he had the pink and yellow flowers too. 

He sat on his bed, trying to not tear the envelope open but failing horrendously. 

It read:

Dear Bokuto-san, 

Here is your first bouquet of many to come. If you should ever want more flowers, don’t hesitate to ask. I am a florist after all, Koutarou.

With love, 

Akaashi Keiji

P.S. take the other vase down to your shop, Watabe-san will get mad at both of us when she finds out.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact~ Watabe-san is half japanese half black, she has long dreads that are in a constant state of being in a bun. she rides a motorcycle and she’s cool :>  
> anyways hope you enjoyed! :')


End file.
